Decalcification
by sincerelymendacious
Summary: Freelance Trainer for hire Yvette Fountain is tasked with locating a missing person in Santalune Forest. But there are secrets hidden off the path, and Yvette is going to have to confront them if she wants to complete the job.
1. Prologue

I own nothing.

Prolouge

It was the silence that woke her.

The standing fan that Yvette kept next to her bed had probably been the smartest purchase she had ever made. She had bought it last summer, in a rare moment of frugal brilliance, reasoning that it would be a lot cheaper to just point a fan at her face instead of running the air conditioner all night while she slept. She hadn't expected the fan to work as well as it did the first night she used it, but surprisingly enough it had done a more than adequate job of keeping her cool. More importantly, the churning white noise emitted by the fan had succeeded in drowning out all other sounds, allowing Yvette an easier sleep. It had been such an excellent sleep aide that she had kept it on through the winter months, simply turning the fan away from her as it ran. It had seemed to be a miracle from Arceus to not be woken up by a honking taxi or a group of noisy drunks every time she spent the night in her tiny Lumiose apartment. She loved that fan. If it had been a pokemon, she would have fed it pokeblocks and entered it into those Hoenni contests that were so popular overseas.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had become spoiled by the fan's presence. The lack of white noise had shaken Yvette almost immediately out of her slumber. Initially confused by both the silence and the heavy heat, Yvette let out a groan when she realized why the fan was working.

"Ugh, no," she moaned, smacking her forehead with her palm. "Not another fucking blackout."

It had been the fourth one in three weeks that Yvette had experienced, but she had overheard her neighbors complaining about others that had occurred while Yvette was out on business. The blackouts seemed mostly confined to the inner city, the plazas being most commonly affected. Yvette's apartment building was located on a street between Magenta plaza and Autumnal Avenue. The apartment was pretty plain and small, consisting of a bathroom and large room that was a bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. It wasn't fancy, but it was cheap and clean, which suited Yvette just fine.

These blackouts, however, did not suit Yvette at all, especially during this unusual spring heat wave that Kalos was currently in the midst of. The power had been out for only five minutes, but her room was already stiflingly hot. Sighing, she sat up and fumbled for the battery-operated lantern she'd placed on her nightstand after the second blackout. The lantern was just powerful enough to illuminate the entire apartment, so she'd left in sitting on the nightstand.

Yvette crawled over to the lone window positioned next to her bed and opened it, hoping that a breeze might get some air moving in her apartment. No such luck. It was just as humid and still outside as it was inside. Yvette peered out into the pitch blackness of the street. The streetlights were out, and the only light outside came from a car passing by her building. The car turned off on Autumnal Avenue and the street was once more plunged into darkness.

 _Some city of lights this is_ Yvette thought grumpily to herself. She turned away from the window and hopped of the bed. The oversized t-shirt she'd worn to sleep was beginning to stick to her skin uncomfortably, so Yvette took it off, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. She walked over to the lone counter in her tiny kitchenette and unplugged her phone from the currently useless charger. Leaving it by the sink, Yvette continued over to the fridge.

The black refrigerator was embarrassingly empty, containing only an old takeout box, a half-full gallon of Skiddo milk, and about a dozen plastic water bottles. Yvette took out the takeout box and one of the water bottles and placed them on the counter. She lifted the box's lid, took a sniff, and tossed the box in the trash, the sour smell of the week-old contents making her stomach turn.

"I should probably check on that milk too" she muttered absently as she twisted the cap on her water bottle. The bottle was still cold to the touch, a pleasant contrast to the sweltering atmosphere inside the rest of the room.

Her ringtone sounded just as she was contemplating dumping the cold water over her head. Bottle still in hand, she walked back to the sink, wondering which one of her shadier acquaintances would be calling her so early in the morning. Not recognizing the number, she cut off the poppy ringtone and answered with curt "Fountain."

"Uh…yeah. Is this Yvette Fountain?" The voice on the other end had the somewhat raspy tone common to long time smokers.

"Yes this is her. What can I do for you?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi. Ah, sorry for calling so late at night. Or, uh, is it early?"

"It's fine."

"Like, I was gonna call in the morning, at eight or nine maybe, but I've been so freaked out about this that I couldn't wait."

"Don't worry about it," Yvette said, hoping the guy would get on with it and tell her why he was calling her. She could practically smell the Sage coming off him through the phone.

"I was gonna leave a message for you or something," he rambled, as though he hadn't heard her. "So you could call me back when you were awake. But you are awake, and we're talking now, so…he trailed off, and there was a moment of silence between them. Yvette wondered if he had actually forgotten why he called her in the first place.

"Do you have a job for me?" Yvette asked, doing her best to keep her annoyance out of her voice. It was too hot and too early to be dealing with a stoned stranger, but she knew it would be unwise to hang up on a potential client before she heard him out.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Sorry, I've been real stressed about this and I'm a little high right now...my name's Didier Héroux, but uh, you can call me Deek. I got a job and I can't call the police because of …reasons. So I'm calling you instead…" he trailed off again with a nervous chuckle.

Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. Yvette wiped it away from the back of her hand. "Alright. What's the problem?"

"My friend's missing. Like, he's been gone for four days. I think. Yeah, four days."

Yvette waited a few seconds for the man to continue. When it became clear that he wasn't going to elaborate any further, she sighed and said "And you want me to find him, is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Where did you last see him?"

"Right before he left the house."

Yvette resisted the urge to throw her phone across the room. "And your house is where?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Uh, we live in West Santalune," he said. He must have sensed her frustration, as he finally seemed to be giving her relevant information. "He was on his way to Santalune Forest, to make a delivery. To a friend. That lives there."

"Does he normally make deliveries to this friend?"

"Yeah, every month. He's usually back in like, a day. But I ain't heard or seen from Pierre since Friday afternoon, and that's not like him." An anxious unease had crept into his voice. "I just feel like something bad must've happened."

"How do you know he didn't go somewhere else after he made the delivery and just forgot to tell you about it?

"He'd never do that!" Deek shrieked, the unease erupting into a full blown panic so suddenly Yvette thought she would get whiplash. "He wouldn't go anywhere else without texting me first, cuz he knows I got issues with people just disappearing on me! Some bad shit went down in that forest! I know it, I fucking know it."

"Hey, calm down," Yvette said, holding the phone away from her ear. "You're going to blow my ear drum out. He's definitely not lost?"

Deek's panic had not abated one bit. "No way!" he shouted. "He's been making those deliveries for years and he's never gotten lost! He knows that forest like the back of his hand!" His voice had become shaky, as though he doing his best to hold back tears. "Please, "he begged. "You gotta find my friend! I can…I got money, I can pay you whatever you want."

"Okay, Okay. I'll find your friend, just stop yelling."Yvette said. She could hear Deek take a deep breath, then let it out. "But I need more information. I'd like to talk to you face to face."

"Yeah, alright," he responded, worn out by his previous shouting fit. "There's a café called Burmy's near where I live. You ever been there?"

Yvette vaguely remembered a shabby little café that had served her a near burnt crepe a few years back. "I know where it is. Let's meet up at eleven."

"Can't you come earlier? This is like, super urgent."

"I'm in Lumiose. It'll take me about an hour and a half to fly over, and I need to prepare for a hike through the woods." _And you need to sober up._

"You're right, you're right." The man sighed. "I'll be there. Just ask for Deek. They know me there."

 _I bet they do_. Yvette kept that thought to herself and hung up with an "I'll see you there."

She placed her phone back on the counter and picked up her abandoned water bottle. The contents had gone from cold to lukewarm during her conversation with Deek. She took a gulp anyway and considered her next move. She knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not in this heat. The power wasn't likely to come back on within the next few minutes either, as the previous blackouts had lasted a couple hours.

Yvette glanced down at her body. Her bare, bronze skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and she knew she reeked of it. She suddenly felt the need for a shower.

 _May as well leave. Pokemon center on the Southern Boulevard probably still has power._ With that thought in mind, she left the water on the counter and walked to her dresser across the room. Clothes, most of them with the tags still on them, were piled in a heap on top of the dresser. Yvette ignored them and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a plain blue tank top and a pair of workout shorts. She changed into the simple outfit quickly, and then put on her wool socks and hiking sneakers.

By the door sat her lightweight backpack, already packed with most of the things she might need for a job of this nature, including her tent, sleeping bag, clothes, first aid kit, maps, utility knife, portable stove, and Jezebel, resting in her pokeball. The only thing Yvette would need to get before leaving for Santalune would be food, which she could buy at the pokemon center, and the other pokemon she'd need to take with her on this trip. All of them were still at her grandmother's lab, protected from the heat by the facility's air conditioning. Jezebel was the only one she kept on her at all times, as she was Yvette's main source of transportation.

She shrugged the backpack on easily, and grabbed her phone off the counter, sticking it in her pocket. She shut off the lamp and made her way out the door, taking her keys off the rack before she left.

Yvette locked the door, and headed down the hall towards the stairs. She could hear her neighbors stirring as she walked past them. It appeared that they couldn't sleep either. One of them was weeping loudly and bitterly as they cursed the Meyer Power Corporation for yet another blackout. Yvette continued on, down the stairs, through the lobby and out onto the street.

The sky, still dark, had begun to lighten at the edges, signaling the coming dawn. Yvette took out Jezebel's pokeball and released her. The red light materialized itself as a large, dark brown bird with a fleshy pink neck and sharp grey beak. Jezebel gave a loud, irritated squawk as she stretched her wings, the bone skirt around her waist rattling with her movements. The Mandibuzz glared at Yvette, unhappy at being forced to travel in such unpleasant weather.

"I know, I know, its fucking hot, you big baby" Yvette said, her affectionate tone at odds with her words. "How do you think I feel? I don't have a nice pokeball to retreat into when the weather is shitty." She reached over and stroked the tan plumage around the bird's neck. "Tell you what, you do me this favor and I'll let you keep the next nasty bone you find on the ground. No complaints."

The prospect of a new bone to add to her collection seemed to ease Jezebel's annoyance. She cooed sweetly, and nuzzled Yvette. Yvette kissed the bird's beak, and then climbed onto her back, like she had a thousand times before. "Head south, to the pokemon center," she said, and the two lifted off into the air.


	2. Chapter 1

I own nothing.

Chapter 1

The residents of Santalune City had a saying about Burmy's: You don't go to Burmy's, you end up at Burmy's.

The shabby little café was located in an equally shabby quarter of the city, though nobody could quite remember if the neighborhood had been that way before Burmy's had been established or if it had gradually fallen apart as a side effect of the restaurant's toxic influence. Burmy's had garnered a rather criminal reputation for its self during its years of operation, being the site of five embezzlement busts, three arsons, one murder, and too many health violations to count. Over the years, many of Santalune's political higher-ups had made attempts at closing the place down. Yet somehow Burmy's managed to persevere, and it remained a boil on the city's landscape that just couldn't be lanced.

It was a fitting place for Yvette to meet with her client. The establishment was no stranger to freelancers like herself looking to make contracts with clients, particularly those clients offering jobs of a questionably legal nature. It was discrete enough to avoid League interference, while still being too public for those who might have more criminal intentions for a young freelancer than making a contract. One of the first lessons Dad had ever taught her was to never, ever meet with a new client alone, whether that be in their home or in the middle of the desert.

"Lots of crazies out there" he used to say, grinning, his bright white teeth a sharp contrast to his smooth ebony skin. Smiles had always come so easy to him. If there was one thing she'd never forget, it was the smile he always wore, even as he gave his warnings about the world and the madmen that existed in it.

Yvette didn't think that Deek was a madman, but it never hurt to play on the safe side. Sage users were typically a harmless lot, but Yvette had no way of knowing if Deek dabbled in more dangerous substances like Moondust or Musharna's Dream. The last thing she wanted was a fight with an upset dustbunny if things didn't go his way.

 _Not in this hot-ass diner,_ Yvette thought, fanning herself with the laminated menu. The iced tea that she had ordered fifteen minutes ago had already become lukewarm and tasteless. The air conditioner was either nonfunctional or nonexistent, and though the ceiling fans made a valiant effort, they did little to alleviate the hot stuffiness permeating the restaurant. The surly waitress chain smoking at the counter certainly didn't help matters.

Yvette glanced down at her phone. 11:17. She was going to give this guy ten more minutes at most before she left. For all she knew, Deek's friend may have already returned to their home on his own. It happened that way sometimes. Pierre may have only been lost. The possibility that she may have come all the way out here just to sit in a hot, smoke-filled dinner and drink watery tea made her grind her teeth in annoyance. If that was the case, than she was definitely going to track both their asses down and charge them an inconvenience fee.

Two more minutes passed, and Yvette sat, glowering at her tea in silence. The waitress did not approach her again; she was content to stand around in her own noxious fumes and occasionally shoot Yvette a suspicious glare. Next to her, the eponymous Burmy snoozed on the counter, appearing blissfully unaware of its dismal surroundings. There was only one other patron at the diner, a shriveled old man sitting in a booth at the front. He sat so still that Yvette would not have been surprised to find that he was actually dead. The fans above them continued to work creakily and ineffectually. Yvette could hear some clanging about coming from the kitchen, but she didn't know who they could be cooking for, as neither she nor the corpse in the front had ordered anything. Maybe they were simply banging around for the hell of it.

At exactly 11:20 the service bell above the door rang, and Yvette glanced up from her drink to see a pale, plain-faced man enter the diner. He was of average height, with long copper hair pulled back into a pony-tail. The short-sleeved button down he was wearing would've looked almost professional had he not worn it with cargo shorts and black sneakers (not that Yvette could judge-slacks in this heat?). The other inhabitants of the diner perked up visibly upon his arrival. The waitress greeted him with familiarity, sounding far friendlier than she had when she had taken Yvette's order near twenty minutes ago. The Burmy shuffled over to him, as excited as it was possible for a Burmy to be about anything. Even the old man came back to life long enough to send a nod and smile in the younger man's direction. The man said his hellos, patted the Burmy on the head and made distracted small talk with the waitress. His eyes searched the restaurant, darting from one booth to another until his gaze landed on Yvette's booth.

Yvette's instincts told her that this was her early morning caller. She waved to him from her seat, catching his attention. He started at her for a moment, unsure of what to do, and Yvette thought she might actually have to yell his name across the diner to get him to come over to her. But then he asked the waitress for "the usual" and made his way toward her tentatively.

"Uh, hello," he said, stopping in front of her table. "You're Miss Fountain?" His tone was one of polite surprise.

"Yup, that's me," she replied, giving her most professional smile. "And you must be Deek?" He gave her a small, shy nod but made no move to sit down. He stood there awkwardly, uncertainty in his eyes. "If you're planning on standing there and staring at me all day, you should know that I charge by the hour."

The words shook him out of his thoughts. "Ah, sorry," he said, the vinyl of the booth giving a squeak as he sat across from her. "It's just…you don't look like what I pictured is all."

It didn't really surprise her to hear that. The violet nylon t-shirt and Nimbasa Blue Sawks cap she was wearing weren't exactly considered professional dress in more typical occupations. Still, she couldn't help but ask "And what exactly did you expect me to look like?"

"Uh, well," he sputtered. "I just thought, you know, you'd be like…I dunno, in a trench coat or something like that."

A short bark of laughter escaped Yvette's lips. "A trench coat? In this heat? I'd be dead of heatstroke before I even entered the forest. Hell, I would've passed out in this diner." She shook her head, snickering.

Deek's face turned bright red with embarrassment. "It's what freelancers wear in the movies so I just…never mind. Sorry if I offended you."

"No, no, it's fine. That's probably the least offensive misconception anybody's ever had about me." She sipped her tea and took a look at his face. His goatee was neatly trimmed, and she could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. His blue eyes were clear, though the dark circles underneath them revealed how much his friend's prolonged absence was affecting him. He had clearly made an effort to be both sober and presentable before he left his house, so Yvette decided to go easy on him.

"Alright," she said, unlocking her phone with a swipe and activating the record app. "No point in wasting time here. Do you have a picture of Pierre on you?"

Deek stared at her phone for a moment before replying. "Uh yeah, I got a couple on my phone." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched through it for a few seconds before settling on one and turning the phone toward her. Yvette leaned forward and saw a man sitting in a blue folding chair. He had a small Pansear hanging on his shoulder, and both of them were smiling and lifting Slurpo Brand Cola bottles, as though they were toasting something. Pierre had long dark hair that made his complexion seem even paler in contrast. His smile was full of yellow teeth that were pushed too close together. Yvette couldn't tell for sure, but she guessed that his build was a bit slighter than Deek's. His large, dark eyes were red-rimmed, and full of contented happiness at his lot in life. Yvette considered the monkey on his shoulder. The jut of Pierre's shoulder covered most of the little creature's body, but its face was completely visible. It was a typical Pansear in all ways but one: its teeth were a dental disaster. At least 3 of them were missing, and the rest were the same unhealthy shade of yellow that Pierre's were.

Yvette turned her attention back to Deek. "I'm going to need you to send me that photo."

"Sure," Deek said. The anxious edge from last night's call had seeped into his voice. "Hey, are you recording this?"

"I record every conversation I have with my clients. Keeps me from overlooking any detail that might help solve the case." _And it helps if some asshole tries to retroactively change the terms of our agreement because he doesn't like how things turned out._ Yvette didn't voice that thought, but couldn't resist asking "What, they don't do that in the movies?"

Deek ignored her teasing. "This isn't one of those 'anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law' kind of things is it? Like, you wouldn't…uh, if you were to encounter something that maybe was…not totally legal, you wouldn't, have to report it to…you know." His eyes were wide and nervous, and he was wringing his hands nervously.

"If you're trying to ask me if I have an obligation to report any illegal doings to the League, then the answer is no. This recording and anything else about this case stays between you, me, and Pierre." Yvette paused and thought for a moment. "Unless you guys are murderers or something. Then I'd have to string your asses up."

"No! No, it's nothing like that!" Deek shrieked. "We're not killers!" He banged his fists on scratched wooden tabletop. "We're not even part of a gang! We don't deal or nothing! We mind our business!" He was visibly shaking, and Yvette glanced around the diner, hoping he wasn't attracting an audience. It was still mostly vacant, though the waitress looked like she wanted to come over and beat the hell out of Yvette for distressing her friend so badly.

It was time to bring this conversation under control. "Never said that you were. Calm down and tell me about the last time you saw Pierre."

Deek took a deep breath, than exhaled slowly. He laid his palms flat on the tabletop. "Sorry, this whole situation is way too much for me. I don't really handle…stress well." He chuckled nervously, than lowered his voice to a whisper. "Pierre and me, well…yeah, we smoke Sage. A lot of it. But we don't do anything harder than that." He sighed, looking at his hands, then back up at her. "But I didn't call you here because I wanted you to do something illegal. I just want you to find my friend."

"I understand that," Yvette began. "But if I'm going to find Pierre, I'll need as much relevant information as possible." She leveled a steady gaze at him. "And if you think that whatever business you have with the Sage market has something to do with his disappearance, then I need to know about it."

Deek nodded grimly, his shoulders slumped, the stress of the last four days weighing him down. "I think," he said, then paused. He struggled for a moment, wrestling with the fear that he hadn't wanted voice out loud. "I think our dealer might have done something to him."

Before he could continue, the waitress came over and set down a plate and a glass of pinap juice on the table in front of him. "Here you go, sweetie," she said gently, soft smile on her face. The smile vanished when she turned to Yvette, replaced by an angry frown that aged her by ten years. "You want anything?" she asked sharply.

"No." Yvette responded, just as sharp. The waitress lingered for a moment, glancing worriedly at Deek, before stalking back to the counter.

Yvette peered at the yellow blob the waitress had placed in front of Deek. It looked like a Fletching egg omelet, though it did not contain any mushrooms, cheese, onions, or other ingredients commonly found in omelets. It was instead filled with a strange, chunky, red sludge that seeped under the edges, spilling out onto the plate. "What the fuck is that?" she asked.

"It's a jelly omelet," Deek said, glumly cutting into the culinary abomination. "It's my favorite." Goopy cheri jam oozed out it like pus from a zit. He stabbed into the cut piece with his fork half-heartedly. "Usually I tear these things up but…"he trailed off and put down his fork. "Maybe I'll get a to-go box. Unless you want it?"

"No thanks," Yvette said quickly. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. They needed to get on with this before the heat, smoke, and terrifying food gave her a migraine. "You mentioned last night that Pierre left to make a delivery to a friend that lives in Santalune Forest. Is this friend the person you get your Sage from?"

"Yeah," Deek admitted. He kept his gaze on his plate as he continued. "Pierre's been going to this guy for three years. I never met him, but Pierre always said he was legit. But they had a weird arrangement."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"Well," Deek scratched his goatee, thinking. "Pierre always had to meet that guy in the forest. Like, deep into the forest, off path probably. I don't think he ever went into the city. I dunno if he lives there or if he just likes to play it safe, but Pierre would always leave in the morning, spend the night, then comeback around noon the next day."

"So your friend would travel into the woods, go off the path, meet this guy, give him money, get the Sage, spend the night, and then return home. Is that what usually happens?" It seemed like an awful lot of work for a drug that could be found in any mid-sized city. Yvette felt like she was missing something.

"Eh, not exactly that, but almost," Deek said. "We never gave the guy any money. He only wanted soda."

"I'm sorry; I must not have heard you right. He just wanted soda?"

Deek squirmed at the disbelief in her eyes. "Yeah, pretty much. Every month Pierre would hitch a cart with 2 cases of Slurpo Brand Cola to his bike and go into the forest. The next day he'd come back with enough Sage to last us the month and a bunch of empty bottles."

"At least he's environmentally conscientious," Yvette muttered. She pinched the bridge of her nose and asked "You're sure it was just soda? He wasn't smuggling something else in those bottles?"

"I don't think so. We'd always buy the soda the day before he left and I never saw him leave with anything else."

Yvette had a hard time believing that there existed a Sage dealer who only wanted an easily obtainable soft-drink in exchange for a month's worth of drugs. But stranger things had happened, and right now she needed to focus on Pierre's whereabouts. "Did Pierre ever mention any conflicts with this person? Did he ever seem reluctant to meet with him?"

"No," Deek said, shaking his head. "It was always good between them. He wasn't at all worried about anything when he left the last time I saw him."

"Is it possible that he would've hidden something like that from you?"

"Hmmm." Deek considered the question for a moment. "Nah. Dude's an open book. If something was wrong, I would've known about it. He was the same as always when he left."

"Then why do you think his dealer is responsible for his disappearance if Pierre never had an issue with him before and didn't seem worried about anything when you last saw him?"

"Uh, w-well," Deek stammered, caught off guard. "I can't think of any other reason he'd be gone like this. I mean he,-we don't have enemies. We aren't gangsters; we just like to smoke up." He looked at her, confusion in his eyes. "What else do you think could've happened?"

Yvette sipped her tea to give herself a moment to think of an answer that wouldn't send Deek spiraling into another panic. Eventually, she said "I don't like to make assumptions this early into the case. Are you absolutely sure he made it into the forest?"

"Yeah, I got proof of that. Hang on," he said, grabbing his phone. "He sent me this video after he got there. That was the last time I heard from him." He offered her the phone and she took it, pressing play on the screen.

In the video, the same Pansear that Yvette had seen in the photo was sneaking up on an oblivious Pikachu napping in the grass. It crept on the yellow mouse silently, and then, when it got close enough, yanked hard on its lightning shaped tail. The Pikachu sprang up with an indignant squeal and angrily chased the chattering Pansear up a tree, sparks discharging out its cheeks. Offscreen, Pierre was cracking up, his laughter raspy. The date on the video was 1:32 pm, 1/5/157. Four days ago.

Yvette watched the video a second time, noting background details. There was no doubt that it had been taken in Santalune Forest. Yvette recognized the Oak and Cheri trees native to the area. More importantly, she noted that the pokemon had been running around in an area with tall grass and no dirt path in sight. The tree that the pokemon had run up also had quite a bit of fruit, signifying an area that did not receive a lot of human traffic. _So he had gone off the path. It's definitely gonna be a hike._ She handed the phone back to Deek. "Send me that video too." With it, she would be able to identify where it was shot, which would help her find Pierre's trail.

"I know you probably don't know exactly where Pierre went off to," Yvette said as she pulled her field map out of her bag. "But do you think you could point out the general location of where he might have gone?"

"I don't think I can," Deek said hopelessly. He looked at the map anyway, face screwed up in concentration. "Wait, hang on; I remember…one time he came home smelling like…I dunno, a wet Froufou. Said he fell in a pond when I asked him about it. Does that help?"

"Maybe." There were a few scattered ponds on the eastern side of the forest. "Do you remember anything else?"

"Nah, 'fraid not. Sorry."

"Its fine. I've got enough to start on," Yvette said as she put the map back into her pack. "But I'd like some info on that Pansear in the video."

"You mean Blaze?"

 _Of course that it's name._ Yvette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Does he belong to Pierre?"

"Nah, Blaze is our buddy. He lives in the forest but sometimes he comes and visits us." Deek gave a small chuckle. "Heh, little guy loves Slurpo."

 _That explains the rotten teeth._ "Did Blaze come back at all?"

"No, he didn't." Deek's eyes went wide with realization and fear. "No, I didn't think of him at all." His breathing became shaky. "You don't think something happened to him too, do you?" he said between pants. "Like, the dealer could've got him too?"

"I never said-"

"Sweet fucking Arceus," Deek cried, hands tearing at his hair. "I didn't even think of him." He had now begun sobbing uncontrollably. "Who would've hurt him? He was the sweetest little dude."

"Deek, calm down," Yvette said sharply. She glanced over at the counter. The waitress was glaring daggers at her and one more exclamation from Deek would have her rushing over to punch Yvette.

"Listen," she said, more soothing this time. He made a rather pathetic picture, crying over his cold jelly omelet. "I only asked that so I can keep an eye out for him. If I can find Blaze, he might be able to lead me to Pierre." Deek looked up at her, tears streaming down his reddened face. He sniffed once and said "Sorry, I can't handle this. The thought of both them…" He looked like he was about to cry again.

"This is difficult for you. I understand," Yvette said, reaching over to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "But I'll find out what happened to your friends." _Now please calm the fuck down before your girlfriend at the counter decides to stab me with a carving knife._

"Yeah," Deek said. "Like I said, I can't handle any kind of stress. And this is the most stressed I've ever been." He picked up a napkin and wiped the tears and snot away. "But I talked to this chick I met online and she said that if you couldn't find him, then nobody could. She said you were the best."

"Ah, yeah," Yvette wanted to change the subject before he had her making promises she might not be able to keep. "I think you've given me all the information that you can. There's just one more thing we need to discuss before we go."

"What's that?"

"My pay."

Across the diner, the Burmy sneezed, sending dust and smoke everywhere.


	3. Chapter 2

I own nothing

Chapter 2

Santalune Forest was regarded by many historians as being one of the oldest nature reserves in the world. It was officially established as a _Forêt Domaniale_ by King Clovis the II in 1092 BC, long before the Indigo League would unite the world in a single government. A popular legend stated the king had met his queen here in a rather unorthodox way. As a young man, Clovis had been unimpressed with the eligible noblewomen in court. Irritated by his advisors continued insistence that he marry one of the women he found boring, he finally came up with a solution. He proposed a competition: the first maiden that could find him in the forest within a month would win his hand in marriage. With that, he disappeared into the forest, with only his loyal Froufou at his side. Many attempted to locate the eccentric king, but all gave up within one or two days, intimated by both the forest's size and the creatures that called it home. However, unbeknownst to all, a kitchen maid had heard the King's challenge and thought up a clever plan to find him. The day she left for the forest, she baked six pecha berry pokepuffs, and brought them with her in a basket. The smell of the puffs was so strong and so delicious that the King's Froufou came bounding toward her within minutes, eager for the taste of his favorite treat. The kitchen maid gave it two, and promised the dog the rest if he led her to the king's hiding spot. The Froufou, suddenly not so loyal, did so without hesitation. Clovis was certainly surprised at being found by a mere kitchen maid, but kept his promise nonetheless. He married her the next day, and the two reigned over their kingdom together for many years.

The legend, while a popular story for children, had no basis in reality. But if there was ever a place where fairy tales could be real, Santalune Forest would no doubt be it. Kalos had a long, bloody history, and there were few locations that were not scarred by one historical atrocity or another. Santalune Forest was one of those rare places untouched by war, pollution, genocide, or any other abomination humanity tended to bring along with it wherever it went.

That wasn't to say that the forest was actually protected by a mystical force that tragedy could not touch. It was only that the tragedies that did occur there were quickly and easily forgotten by the passage of time, irrelevant in the long scheme of things.

It was too early to tell if Yvette was walking into one of these little tragedies. Deek seemed pretty convinced that some terrible fate had befallen his friend, but that didn't necessarily mean Pierre was actually dead, or that his mysterious Sage dealing hermit pal had anything to do with it. Pierre could have been murdered by his dealer. There was a chance that could've happened. Or he could've been injured on the way there, and was recuperating at the hermit's abode. They also could've been attacked by a swarm of Beedrill. Maybe they got busted by the League police. Or maybe Pierre was just lost and unable to contact help for some reason. Too many 'could haves' and 'maybes' and not enough evidence to say which theory was the correct one yet.

At the moment, Yvette was simply trying to find his trail. The forest had only one main footpath that connected Avance Trail to Ouvert Way, and it had been walked upon by too many other people to be of any help. Instead Yvette was keeping an eye out for where Pierre's bike and cart would have veered off the path and into the woods. She was hoping she would find the tracks on her first walkthrough-the trail was about a five hour walk either way and Yvette really didn't want to waste time on the main path when she didn't know how far into the forest Pierre had travelled. A greedier freelancer would have done just that-intentionally run up the clock to cheat more money out of the client. But Yvette felt bad for Deek. He clearly wasn't coping well with the situation, if his sunken eyes and multiple outbursts were any indication of his well-being. And, if she were being honest with herself, she already was fleecing him. He hadn't even bothered haggling with her when she named her price of 8000 yen per hour. He merely accepted the price with a sheepish shrug and an "I got a trust fund" as an explanation. It shouldn't have surprised her; he was a Héroux, one of the more prominent noble families from Dendemille Town. He'd either been too worried about his friend, or too drained to fight about her price.

Still, if she had wanted to cheat Deek out of more money, today would've been a fine day to do it. The forest canopy blocked out most of the sun, lowering the temperature enough to make it pleasantly warm instead of blisteringly hot. Thick trunked oaks mingled with spindly berry trees long stripped of their fruits by both pokemon and trainer alike. Scatterbugs and Caterpies made their slow, creeping way up the trees, hoping to avoid the Fletchings swooping down on their siblings on the ground. Along the sides of the path, the grass grew tall and wild, dotted with yellow and purple wild flowers.

It was ten after two in the afternoon, and naturally Yvette was not the only person on the path. Families with children and couples walked the main trail, stopping here and there to photograph a cute pokemon or interesting plant. In the open spaces off to the side, trainers battled their pokemon against the wildlife or other trainers. Most of them were young, beginners starting out with common Bunnelbys and Zigzagoons. Half an hour ago, she had passed by a young man with a Froakie. He had eyed her and Doyle with interest, but they had walked by too fast for him to challenge them. All of the other trainers had wisely given them a wide berth, intimidated by the Houndoom's sleekly muscled body and large curving horns.

It was just as well. Yvette didn't care much for League style battles, and didn't have the time to indulge in them right now. She'd flown straight to the forest after her meeting with Deek, arriving a bit after noon, and had been hiking the path for two hours. Neither she nor Doyle had found anything of note. Deek had mentioned Pierre falling into a body of water during a past trip, and Yvette knew of several scattered ponds on the eastern side of the forest, so they were sticking to that edge. If she couldn't find Pierre's tracks, she was going to have to search the ponds at random and hope for the best. _And that could take days. Time Pierre might not have._

A pokemon's loud yapping stood out against the rest of the forest's sounds and caught her attention. Up ahead, two girls, a blond and a brunette, were standing in the grass, their two pokemon at their feet. A small yellow fox, the source of the yapping, was running around the girls in circles, barking its head off. The other pokemon, a brown-furred creature with a green spiky head, was huddled at the brunette's side, looking up at her with a worried look on its face. The girls ignored the barking Fennekin and nervous Chespin and discussed something the brunette was holding in hushed tones.

Instincts peaked; Yvette strode toward them quietly, Doyle trotting alongside her. Upon closer inspection, Yvette realized that the something the girl was holding was in fact, a third pokemon. A trembling red monkey sat limply in the brunette's arms, its fur matted and sticking out messily.

The girls were too focused on the Pansear to notice Yvette's approach. The brunette had her back turned, so Yvette couldn't see her face. She was a couple centimeters shorter than her friend, with skin the color of light ochre. Her hair was a darker shade of brown, and done up in pigtails. Her shoes, Yvette noted with disdain, were horribly inappropriate for trail-walking of any kind. They were pink, plasticy sandals with a thick heel. Her feet would be covered with blisters by the time she exited the forest, if they weren't already.

Her blond friend was a bit better off-she was at least wearing sneakers. But the black thigh highs she was sporting looked to be made of cotton, which was a huge mistake when going on a long walk of any kind. She too would have blisters before the day was done.

Mistake or no, Yvette couldn't deny that the thigh-highs suited her. They came up just below the hem of her high-waist black and red dress, giving a teasing glimpse of her thighs. Yvette's gazed lingered there a moment before she shook her head. The girl's legs were nice, but she was on the clock and needed to stay focused on the case.

She and Doyle had gotten close enough to hear the brunette whisper "Should we give him a potion?" The blond looked unsure, and from this distance Yvette could make out the features of her face. She was a classic Kalosian beauty – high cheekbones, straight nose, full lips and fine brow. She and Yvette could never be mistaken for sisters- she was pale ivory where Yvette was warm bronze-but they could potentially pass as cousins. This girl was probably a young noblewoman out on her first adventure away from home. She was currently giving the creature in her friend's arms a look that alternated between disgust and pity. _Welcome to the real world, princess. They can't all be Froufous and Eevees._

The Fennekin stopped its barking abruptly, being the first to spot Yvette and Doyle. It locked eyes with Doyle, and then bristled, its soft fur prickling. It snarled, bearing its teeth, little glints of flame sparking out from the red fur of its ears. To a Bunnelby or Caterpie, it would be a fearsome look. To Doyle, less so. He ignored the Fennekin, and sniffed the air with interest.

Thankfully, the blond finally noticed the newcomers in their midst before the aggressive fox could lob a fireball at them. "Severine, be polite," she said, kneeling down to give the Fennekin a scratch on the ears. It seemed to calm the pokemon down, as it stopped snarling, though the desire to fight burned in her eyes. "Sorry," the blond said. "Severine is a little overexcited right now." She spoke slowly and eloquently, taking care to form every word perfectly. But she dragged her vowels too long to be the Kalosian noble that Yvette had initially thought she was. The accent, though well-hidden, was obviously Unovan. _Yikes. Good luck with that here, sweetheart._

"No worries," Yvette said, keeping her surprise at the girl's origin out of her voice. "I'm sure Doyle and I could've handled anything she threw at us." The blond frowned; slightly offended that Yvette did not consider the yippy pokemon that was one-fourth her Doyle's size a viable threat. Not in the mood for a battle, Yvette asked "You ladies need some help?"

The brunette finally turned around to face Yvette. Her green, almond shaped eyes were full of concern and sadness for the Pansear trembling in her arms. The corners of her lips were turned downwards, her expression mirroring that of the Chespin looking up at the two of them. "Um, hi," she began nervously. "I'm Shauna, and that's Serena. We found this Pansear in the grass over there, and it looks…um, it looks pretty bad. He won't move or anything." Her voice was sweet, and she spoke quickly. "Me and Serena, we're just starting out today on our journey and we don't really know what to do…she finished weakly, glancing down at monkey.

"Let me take a look at him," Yvette said. Shauna pried the Pansear off of herself, his little claws leaving small holes in the pink fabric of her shirt. He went into Yvette's arms without protest or struggle. Yvette held the pokemon at a distance as she examined him. His eyes were wide and glassy, staring at nothing, mouth slack and open. He was covered in an array of filth; most of it mud and twigs. A strange, dark substance was caked onto his feet that didn't look like mud. It was too thick to be berry residue and too purple to be dried blood. _Some sort of poison powder? No, it's too sticky, and it's clearly something he stepped in. Toxic sludge? But what pokemon in this forest would be able to do that?_ Yvette pushed the thoughts away for later consideration as she forced the Pansear's mouth open to examine its teeth. _Three missing, the rest rotted._ "Blaze," she said, shaking him gently. He didn't respond. Doyle got closer to him and sniffed, snout wrinkling in disgust at the clumpy purple mess on its feet. When Doyle was done, she gave the Pansear back to Shauna, who held him close to her chest. He stunk of dirt, piss, and poison, a bitter, nauseous stench. The poor girl's shirt was ruined.

"I didn't see any injuries on him," Yvette said. "But give him half a dose of antidote to be safe. Did you capture him?"

She had directed the question at Shauna, but it was Serena who answered. "No, I did," she said as she rummaged through her large purse. She pulled out a bottle of generic antidote and filled the cap up halfway. "I saw it standing in the grass and threw a pokeball at it. It did not even struggle." She handed the cap to Shauna and looked at Yvette, gray eyes narrowed. "Does he belong to someone else? I heard you call him Blaze."

"Not officially, no," Yvette said, taking her phone out of her pocket. "But he is a friend of my client, and connected to a missing person's case I'm working on. You found him over there, right?" She gestured over to the grassy area by the edge of the tree line.

"Uh, I think so," Shauna said, forcing the antidote into Blaze's mouth. She was having a hard time getting the near catatonic pokemon to swallow it. "Are you a police officer?" she asked with relief in her voice. "I'm so glad we ran into you! We really had no idea how to help him."

"Police officers do not typically have clients. She's a mercenary," Serena spat icily. Her arms were crossed at her chest and a distrusting glower had made its way onto her face. "That missing person is most likely somebody that does not want to be found, especially by her or whoever hired her." Her Fennekin began growling, taking her cue from her trainer.

"Ah, sweetheart," Yvette said, voice dripping with condescension. "Here in Kalos, the polite term would be 'Freelance Trainer'. I suggest you learn the correct terms for things here if you're going to play at being a proper little princess." Yvette met her eyes with the same sickeningly sweet smile her grandmother used when talking down to mere peasants. "Although that cute little accent you're trying so hard to hide will give you away instantly to any real Kalosian noble. Perhaps you should just keep that pretty mouth shut from now on."

Serena's cheeks flared right red, her fists clenched at her side. Her body trembled, and it was clear that she was doing her best to keep herself from flying at Yvette in a rage. Her Fennekin showed no such restraint-it attempted to charge right at her and Doyle, stopped only by Shauna's Chespin. The Chespin chattered as it held the fox back, frantically trying to stop the Fennekin from picking a fight she couldn't possibly win. Shauna stood in midst of it all, looking terribly confused. Blaze remained inert.

The standoff continued for a few seconds more, until Yvette felt a sharp nip on her arm. Doyle gazed up at her, disapproval in his big, dark eyes. _You're right boy, why the fuck am I giving her shit? She has no reason to trust me, especially if she's from Unova. I'm acting like my Grandma._

"Uh, hey," Yvette said awkwardly. "That was rude and I shouldn't have said it. That's just my bad upbringing rearing its ugly head. Still trying to unlearn that shit. Anyway, I'm sorry."

Serena looked away, the color still high in her cheeks. "Whatever," she muttered, the closest thing to forgiveness Yvette was going to get. The Fennekin huffed angrily before turning its nose up at both of them.

"So about your case," Shauna said quickly, eager to change the subject. "Do you think Blaze might be able to lead you to the missing person?"

"I don't think this little guy's in any condition to be of much help," Yvette responded, taking in the Pansear's vacant stare. "He's in shock, and I don't have time to wait for him to recover." She shook her head. Blaze's filthy apperance and traumatized eyes did not bode well for Pierre. "Doyle can track his scent, so should be able to find the trail leading to him."

"Odd choice for a tracking dog," Serena remarked sorely, still suspicious. "Houndooms are normally guard dogs, are they not? Or do proper Kalosians value viciousness in a pokemon?"

"Some of us do, yes," Yvette replied, "But Doyle here actually failed guard dog training. He was too nice. Anyway, I know Blaze is legally your pokemon, but I doubt that he would make a good travelling companion right now. Would be willing to give him up to my client?"

"Oh, that sounds like a great idea!" Shauna exclaimed excitedly. She smiled at Yvette, and Yvette forgave her instantly for her poor choice in footwear. Her smile was bright and sweet, the two dimples at either side of her mouth making her round face even more adorable. Her pale green eyes shone with gratitude. There was not a shred of duplicity in this girl-when she smiled, she meant it. The genuineness was not something Yvette encountered often, and in this moment she found it incredibly appealing. She found herself smiling back automatically.

"How do we know we can trust this person?" Serena asked, ending the moment suddenly. She seemed torn between three emotions- relief at having the Pansear taken off her hands, guilt at feeling that relief, and suspicion towards Yvette and her client.

"Well that's a fair question," Yvette admitted. "He's got a lot of money, so he can afford to give Blaze the best care possible. And they already know each other, so that should speed the recovery along." She gave her next words some thought before adding "He's a nice guy. He really cares about his friends, if all the money he's paying me to find them is any indication." Yvette shrugged. "What choice do you have?"

Serena nodded grimly, conflicted but willing to consider the option. "Where does he live?"

"He's from Santalune. I'll give him a call so you can meet up," Yvette said as she dialed his number.

The phone rang once before Deek picked up. "Did you find him?" he shouted, loud enough that both Serena and Shauna winced.

Yvette braced herself for the conversation she was about to have. "No, not yet," she replied carefully. Deek gave a long groan on the other end before she continued. "I located Blaze. A trainer captured him, but she's willing to bring him to you."

"Shit, well that's good news! Is…is he okay?"

"He's not hurt physically," Yvette said. "But he's in pretty bad shape mentally. He's not reacting to anything around him right now. He should recover with time, but I suggest you take him to a Pokemon Center at the very least."

There was silence on Deek's end as he absorbed the information and all it implied. He swallowed, and then asked, in a near whisper "It's not looking good for Pierre, is it?"

"I can't say anything for sure. I'm close to finding his trail, and that's what I'm focusing on," she said, keeping her voice as blandly neutral as possible. She thought the situation looked bleak, but saying that to Deek right now was a bad idea. He needed to keep himself together for Blaze's sake. "I'll call you if I find anything else. Where do you want these trainers to meet you?"

"I'll meet them on Overt way," he mumbled, and the despair in his voice made Yvette feel guilty for sidestepping his previous question. "How long will it be?"

"They're about two hours away from the forest exit, so it might be a while. Two-and half hours, I think."

Tell them I'll meet them at the pond near the exit. They won't miss it. Give them my number just in case though."

"Can do."

"And Miss Fountain…"he said, on the verge of tears. "Just…find him. Whatever state he's in, just make sure you find him."

"Yeah, I'll do that." With that, Deek hung up, and Yvette turned back to the two girls and relayed the details of the previous conversation.

"It might be safer for Blaze if you put him back in his pokeball," Yvette suggested. Serena did just that, the Pansear disappearing in a beam of red light. Shauna brushed the grime off as best she could, though it was unlikely that she would be able to salvage the shirt.

"We'll go right away," Shauna said, smiling once again. "I'm sure you'll find his friend. I hope he's okay."

"I hope so too." Yvette was not nearly as optimistic. There was little doubt in her mind that she'd find him. As for him being okay- all signs pointed to no.

"Hold-up," Yvette said as the girls and their pokemon started towards the exit. She unzipped one of the pockets on her pack and reached into her wallet. She handed Shauna a business card with her name and contact information written on it. "If you ever run into trouble, give me a call. Cute girls get a discount." The other girl blushed and sputtered out a "thanks!" before rushing off. Serena rolled her eyes and gave Yvette one last glare before jogging after her friend.

It was just her and Doyle once again. "The tracks are probably along this grassy area, by the trees," she said. Doyle barked and put his nose to the ground, sniffing and walking briskly towards the tree line at the same time. Yvette followed his lead, looking for the tire tracks in the dirt. After a few minutes of searching, they found it- the singular tread of bicycle wheels followed by the wider tracks of the cart hitched behind it. They led deeper into the forest in a straight line.

"Alright boy, let's go find Pierre." Yvette gave him a scratch under the chin, and the two ventured off the path, following Pierre's last known footsteps.


	4. Chapter 3

I own nothing

Trigger Warning: Violence, gore, animal abuse

Chapter 3

It was far too quiet for Yvette's liking.

She and Doyle had been following the tracks for a good four hours, stopping only once to have a quick lunch. For the first three and a half hours, nothing had been out of the ordinary. They had heard the songs of Fletchinders and their young, the scampering of Pikachus and Zigzagoons, the flap of a Butterfree's wings, even the low hum of a Beedrill's buzz.

Yvette had been able to tune most of it out. The pokemon that lived off of Santalune's main course were a lot stronger than the ones who lived on it, but they were also more wary of humans. They were even less inclined to approach Yvette with a ferocious looking hellhound at her side. The only cause for alarm had been the Beedrill, but it too had kept its distance.

She'd been more alarmed by the absence of background noise, noticing it suddenly as they hiked. The eerie silence had set in half an hour ago, and it had put both of them on edge. Doyle's gaze flickered watchfully from tree to tree, teeth bared, as though he were trying to intimidate the quietude itself. Yvette had taken out her can of mace, and was clutching it tightly in her left hand, in case something decided to pop out and catch them by surprise. Doyle could handle himself for the most part, but she didn't really use him for battle that often, and it was always better to be prepared for anything.

Yvette felt an itch on the back of her neck and immediately smacked the spot without thinking. She took a glance at her hand and was relieved to not find any glittery residue on it. Vivillions were notoriously aggressive towards strangers intruding on their breeding grounds, but they rarely confronted anything head on. They preferred to send out a variety of different spores in the intruder's direction, shimmery gold to cause paralysis or soft lilac for poison. But if that had been the case, they would have heard something-the flap of the Vivillion's wings, or the rustling of the branches as it moved. They had heard nothing, which meant the prick she had felt was only her nerves getting the better of her.

She had good reason to be worried. Though they had not seen or heard a pokemon in quite some time, it was pretty clear that they had been in this area until very recently. Clawmarks were scratched onto the trees that surrounded the path, long slashes from elemental monkeys marking their territory, and smaller scuffs left by Pikachus climbing up the trunks. The vegetation was clipped where bug pokemon had chewed on it, as were some of the leaves within easy reach of the branches. They'd even run into a few empty nests, hastily abandoned by whatever bird had lived there. Despite all these signs of life, the only sounds she could hear were that of their own footsteps.

Stranger than the lack of native pokemon was the absence of any visible reason for their disappearance. The typical signs of a battle were not there-there wasn't any damage to the trees, no scorched plants, the ground was free of ruptures. No poison residue resembling the stuff on Blaze's feet, either. The forest looked just as it should, save for its missing inhabitants. _At this point, I'd be happy if I tripped over a corpse. Then I'd be able to get some idea of what's going on._

Yvette looked down at the tire treads they were following, and then up at the sky. It was still reasonably light out, even through the thick forest canopy. She estimated that they had less than two hours of daylight left before the forest became blanketed in darkness. She had everything she needed to camp out though the night if need be, but she didn't relish the thought of sleeping in a place that was so unnaturally quiet.

She wondered if it had been like this when Pierre had rode through here. Would he have felt just as unnerved? Would he have pedaled faster to escape the stillness? Would he have been worried about his mysterious friend?

Or perhaps his mysterious friend was the cause of the abnormal silence. Maybe the hermit had managed to capture all the surrounding pokemon without actually battling them. Maybe he was building an army to take over Santalune City, and Pierre had stumbled upon his nefarious plot. Perhaps he had killed Pierre in order to keep him from warning Viola of the impending attack, and only Blaze had been able to narrowly escape. Maybe she and Doyle were the only people standing between Santalune City and certain destruction.

 _Or maybe you've fucking cracked._ The idea sounded like one of the ridiculous stories her father used to make up. He'd come up with the most out-there scenarios and then insist to her that they were true in such a serious tone that she would begin to believe him despite her protests to the contrary. When he finally had her convinced that he was telling the truth, he'd smile and say "Nah, I'm just yanking your chain." It used to make her so angry, yet she would fall for it every time…

Well. In any case, unless the hermit had an infinite supply of masterballs, that chances that he had caught all those pokemon without fighting any of them were slim to none. If she had to guess-seriously guess- it was probably one of two possibilities. One: the dealer attacked Pierre and killed him. Two: the hermit had succumbed to the same fate Pierre had. Of the two theories, she was leaning towards option two. A single murder would have gone mostly unnoticed by the rest of the forest. Whatever monstrosity was roaming this forest likely would have gotten them both, and in manner that frightened off anything within a certain radius.

She felt the unpleasant squish of a fallen berry underneath her sneaker and grimaced. There was no way to know how much further these tracks went. Pierre may have been able to make this trip in a day, but he had ridden on a bike and could travel faster even with the cart hitched behind him. She only knew that he had paused once- at the spot where he had filmed Blaze harassing the wild Pikachu. From then it had been a straight line along a worn path, heading east, deeper into the forest. There were no signs that he had stopped for another break. She sighed and took off her hat, smoothing down hair sticky with sweat despite the pleasant temperature. _More money for me, I suppose._ The thought did little to console her.

For fifteen more minutes, they walked, surrounded by the silent trees standing like sentinels on either side of them. The Doyle stopped short, snout in the air. His nose wrinkled in disgust at whatever it was he smelled. Yvette inhaled through her nose and detected a faint whiff of something foul straight ahead, where the tracks were leading them.

As they walked closer, the stench got stronger. It was pungent and acidic, likely to give her a headache if she inhaled it too much. She couldn't see the source of the smell itself, but up ahead she saw the trees give way to small clearing. "Hang on, boy," she said, slipping her backpack off of her shoulders. She unzipped one of the pockets and grabbed an ultra ball. If whatever was making that stench was a wild pokemon, catching it would be easier than a prolonged fight.

As they progressed towards the clearing, the stench became stronger. There was an undercurrent of sick-sweetness to it now, and Yvette tightened her grip on the mace, her finger on the trigger. Dread pulled in the pit of her stomach as she recognized the smell of death in the air. Next to her, Doyle looked ahead, smoke escaping from his nostrils. "Ease up on the fire, Doyle," she said in a hushed tone. "You don't want to give away our position." He snorted, and the smoke cleared, though he did not appear any less tense.

She was now close enough to make out several shapes on the forest floor in the middle of the clearing. Yvette gritted her teeth and prepared herself for the worst as they continued forward, carefully avoiding stepping on anything that could alert whatever was responsible for this to their presence. The clearing was a large circular area surrounded by oak trees. There was a small pond off to the right, low branches of the nearest tree hanging above it. It would have been a nice, tranquil spot to relax and appreciate nature had there not been little monkey corpses strewn all over the place.

There was a dozen of them, Panpours, Pansears, and Pansages, their tiny bodies lying limp and still at unnatural angles. Necks broken, entrails spilling out of perforated stomachs, tongues swollen grotesquely, eyes staring glassily at nothing- something had massacred these poor bastards brutally and without remorse. _Well you wanted a corpse, Yvette. Arceus must be laughing its fucking head off._

Any pokemon trainer who successfully completed the Kalos circuit encountered death at least once. Freelance trainers for hire saw it even more often. Yvette had completed the circuit at age fifteen, and had been an active freelancer ever since. She was no stranger to death or dead things. But this was quite possibly one of the worst things she had ever seen in her life.

She swallowed dryly and turned her back to the clearing, needing a moment to collect herself. Horrifying scene behind her, she still had a job to do. She steeled her nerves for the task ahead and turned back toward the clearing, eyes assessing the corpse laden ground for evidence of Pierre. His body wasn't among the monkeys- a good sign for him, perhaps. She stepped forward and jumped back, startled, upon hearing the crack of crushed glass under her sneaker. She looked down, almost grateful to have an excuse to not look at the dead pokemon for the moment. The glass looked to be from a bottle of some sort, shattered during the battle with whatever monster had attacked. It still had its papery logo stuck it, and she could still make out a cartoon Slurpuff guzzling the contents of a bottle through the grime. _Slurpo Brand Cola…_

Yvette glanced over the area, focusing on the shattered glass that shared the ground with the corpses. The broken bottles littered the ground, their sugary liquids soaking into the soil alongside blood and what appeared to be the same purple sludge that Blaze had stepped during his escape. An upturned crate lay on its side by the tree line. She turned to left and finally noticed the bicycle standing innocently off to the side, somehow free of blood or sludgy residue. His cart was still hitched to bike, though there was nothing in it. _Pierre made it here and he made his delivery. Then where is he now?_

Yvette pulled Doyle's pokeball off of her belt and returned him too it before walking any further into the clearing. Her sneakers were tough enough to protect her feet from damage, but Doyle's bare paws were vulnerable to the glass. The last thing she wanted was for him to be injured before they even encountered the thing that did this.

Doyle safe in his pokeball, she turned her attention to the corpses. She was no expert in forensics, but she guessed that the bodies were a few days old from the way they swelled with gasses. A good number of the monkeys had grievous wounds in their abdomens. One particularly unfortunate soul had nearly been torn in half. _Whatever did this was much bigger than these guys and used thrusting attacks…and a strong poison move. A Beedrill?_

A Beedrill did seem like the most obvious perpetrator. Powerful Beedrill could imbue their jabs with a nasty poison. _But that doesn't explain the ones who have no internal injuries, the ones that died from the poison._

The sludge on the ground was almost as abundant as the broken glass. It was a thick, chunky purple substance. She had been right about Blaze stepping in it as he fled, but wrong about it being from a simple toxic move. The way it splattered out in a near circular pattern was all wrong for that attack. She looked around the clearing and saw other sludge circles polluting the ground and even on the oak trees that ringed the glade.

 _Like something took a foul ball and threw it all over the place…shit. Fucking Sludge Bombs._ That ruled out wild Beedrills. Yvette racked her brain trying to think of all the pokemon that learned the move naturally and used thrusting attacks, but came up blank. _This pokemon belongs to a trainer that taught it that move with a technical machine._ She surveyed the ring of trees, ears listening for the sound of footsteps, rustling branches, screeches or growls, anything that would alert her to something's approach. The situation was far, far worse than she had expected when she walked into the forest today. Some psychopath and his strong, equally crazy pokemon was running around the forest, murdering the wildlife. _And Pierre too, most likely._ She couldn't hear anything other than the sound of her own fast beating heart. _Had they moved on?_

Once again, Yvette forced herself to calm down and look at things logically. Panicking could be a death sentence if the murderers decided to come back and admire their handiwork. She considered what she knew: Pierre had left the area alive, although it was unlikely that he was uninjured. Her gaze flickered over to his bike. The kickstand was down, which meant that he had intentionally parked there. If he had come upon the monkeys the way she had, he and Blaze likely would have fled on the bike, instead of just leaving it there. _And the crate is by the tree line…he made the delivery here. Could the hermit be responsible for this after all? But why? And what's with all these monkeys?_

Yvette observed the area once again, this time looking for evidence of another human's presence. As she looked, one of the dead Pansages caught her eye. It was one of the poisoned ones-no wounds on his body, just the purple, swollen tongue hanging out of its slack mouth. Something was off about it, and it wasn't just the tongue. She took a closer look and realized that it was missing most of the leaves on the top of its head. What remained was thin and uneven, as though the leaves had been plucked off of its head at different times. She glanced at the rest of the Pansages and noted that all of them were in the same state of near baldness, patches of green growing intermittently all over their scalps.

On a hunch, she checked their teeth-not an easy task with their tongues in the way. But she could still see that the teeth in their mouths were rotted and jagged. It was the same with the Pansears and Panpours- yellow teeth riddled with cavities.

The pieces of the puzzle of Pierre's disappearance were beginning to fall together, forming a strange picture in Yvette's mind. Pierre would ride all the way out to this random clearing, and trade his soda for the Sage to his dealer, which had been traded to the dealer by these monkeys in exchange for the soda. The monkeys didn't seem to have been captured by the dealer-Blaze had been considered wild enough for Serena to be able to catch him. _So were they just loyal because of the soda? Then why kill them all like this? And if he didn't do it, where is he? No signs of consistent human habitation in this area at all._

Perhaps none of these questions really mattered in the long. She'd been tasked with finding Pierre, not solving all these murders. The smartest thing to do right now would be to find Pierre, alive or dead, and get the fuck out of this forest. She could report the massacre to Viola, get her money from Deek, then spend it all on enough booze that would help her forget the sight of twelve dead little monkeys lying in a stinking battleground.

She looked around for a safe spot to release Doyle onto when she noticed yet another corpse just pass the tree line. It appeared larger than the monkeys, but too small to be an adult human. She considered just ignoring it-if it wasn't Pierre, and it wasn't going attack her, than fuck it, Viola and her rangers could handle it. But a macabre curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself walking over anyway, gingerly avoiding the sludge and glass as best she could. And when she saw it, she had to keep herself from laughing out loud.

It was a fat green monkey, much bigger than the ones that lay back in the clearing. The Simisage lay on its stomach, back covered in thick sludge, though it was likely that the gaping hole between its shoulder blades killed it long before it could succumb to the poison. Its face was turned to the side, and Yvette thought she could see the fear it felt in its last moments in its glassy eyes. She bent closer to its face, ignoring the horrible smell, and was not surprised to find more cavity-infested teeth.

Unlike its smaller brethren, the crest of leaves on top of its head was full and abundant. But Simisage leaves didn't have the same effect that Pansage leaves did, and there wasn't a market for them. _No, it just needed to get leaves from its underlings, and trade that for soda, while taking a big cut of it for itself. Huh, didn't think a Simisage would have the patience for this kind of operation._

The mystery of Pierre's dealer had been solved, and the revelation only created more questions than it answered. _How long had it been doing this? How did Pierre even meet them? Does it have an arrangement with other people?_ Suddenly her theory of the army-building hermit didn't seem so insane compared to the reality of the Simisage running its own Sage operation out of Santalune Forest. _Was it even worth all the trouble? Pierre could've caught his own Pansage and gotten leaves from it…though probably not as much if he had six. And you'd probably be watched by the League if you registered six Pansages at once…_

Yvette's debate regarding the pros and cons of exploitive forest Sage was cut short by a far-off snapping sound, followed by a thud, coming from the direction of the pond. She stood frozen in indecisive panic for a moment as she heard another snap-thud, this one slightly louder than the last. _Something's coming. And it's tearing the branches right off the trees._ She broke free from her panic and sprang into action, hiding behind one of the thicker oaks and releasing Doyle. All the while more branches fell to the ground, the pokemon approaching slowly but surely.

Yvette put motioned for Doyle to sit down as she removed her backpack from her shoulders. They crouched behind the tree, peering around the trunk at the pond. Her grip on the mace was like iron, and the muscles in her right arm were poised to throw the ultra ball at any second. Doyle practically shook with anticipation, and Yvette knew he was doing his best to resist the instinct to growl and bark at the threat.

The noises got louder as the pokemon drew nearer. A buzz droned through the trees, higher in pitch that that of a Beedrill, but still insect-like, alongside the furious beat of wings. The buzzing sounded strangely erratic, going from soft to sharp seemingly at random. Yvette gritted her teeth as the noises became louder and louder, until finally, after what seemed like hours, it emerged.

It hovered over the pond, swaying drunkenly. It-or she, rather, was a Vespiqueen-possibly the largest that Yvette had ever seen, being a good one and half meters tall. Her wings beat rapidly, though one of her left ones was torn badly, likely the reason for her abnormal swaying. She was covered in dried blood, the dark red standing out against the yellow striping her abdomen. Yvette wagered that the majority of it came from her victims, the monkeys and anything else unfortunate to cross her path.

The Vespiqueen hovered in place for a few seconds, and then flew forward into the middle of the clearing. Yvette tensed, and she saw Doyle lower his head, doing his best to stay hidden. The Vespiqueen didn't notice either of them, distracted by the corpses underneath her. From this distance, Yvette could see that the Beehive Pokemon had seen better days. The monkeys had put up a fight-scorch marks dotted her body, small and mostly ineffectual, but numerous. The remnants of a leech seed twined around her shoulders and narrow waist, though the vines were brown and dead instead of vibrant and green. And there were scratches, some of them with broken glass sticking out of the wounds. It looked very painful, but the Vespiqueen didn't seem to feel it. _She probably can't,_ Yvette thought, dread pooling in her stomach. _Its foaming at the mandible and staggering all over the place…she's sick in the worst way._

The Vespiqueen may have been injured, but it was also rabid, and looked to be very powerful. Yvette could see the sharp stinger hidden underneath her abdomen as she swung madly in midair. The six cells that ringed the stinger were empty- she couldn't call reinforcements. _Thank Arceus for small favors_. But trained Vespiqueens at a high level didn't need reinforcements to be dangerous. They had other ways to be deadly.

The bee seemed to only just now remember the corpses she had made around her. She swooped down to grab one- a limp Panpour that had succumbed to the poison. The stinger in her abdomen shot out as she tossed the body into the air, skewering it as it fell. She then launched the body at the trees, where it smacked against a trunk and slid to the ground.

The contents of Yvette's stomach jumped to her throat as she watched the body fall, its innards leaking out of its stomach. _That was unnecessary._ The Vespiqueen repeated the process with another body, as though she didn't realize it was already dead. _That Fell Stinger's gonna put her attack off the charts. She was trained well. But her trainer isn't around…_ Yvette glanced down at the ultra ball in her hand and then back to the mad Vespiqueen. No sign of a trainer- they could have released her when she started showing signs of being rabid. Not very responsible or humane, but it was something trainers did. Or they could be dead. Either way, it seemed probable that she could catch the Vespiqueen without a fight. If, of course, the trainer had reported the Vespiqueen's release, or if the trainer's death had been registered in the system. Otherwise, her ultra ball wouldn't open when it hit the Vespiqueen.

It would be best to avoid a fight. Doyle could hold his own in a battle with the wild pokemon here, but that Vespiqueen was another story. And rabies was contagious, if the Vespiqueen could get a hit on him with her stinger. Plus there was the sludge bombs, and broken glass to worry about. She had Jezebel with her, who could avoid the broken glass and was much stronger than Doyle. _But all of her attacks are physical, and I can't risk her ending up like this Vespiqueen here…_ Doyle was her better choice, if she needed to fight the bee, as he could use Fire Blast from a distance. _But she'd need to go down in one hit._

A plan began to formulate in Yvette's mind. "Keep your distance," she whispered to Doyle, one eye on the Vespiqueen. "Stay in the trees, away from the glass. When I tell you, give a good Fire Blast. But don't let it see you before that." Doyle nodded and she motioned for him to stay as she stealthily moved closer to the Vespiqueen frolicking grotesquely in the glade. She took one step, then another, doing her best to remain as silent as possible. The Vespiqueen didn't notice, too caught up in its bizarre play.

She threw the ultra ball as hard as she could, and it hit the Vespiqueen right on the left side of its abdomen. The ball didn't open-the pokemon was still registered as owned in the League database. Yvette had succeeded in knocking it off balance for a moment, so she used that small amount of time to maneuver herself out of the bee's line of sight. The Vespiqueen shrieked in outrage, searching furiously for whoever had dared to launch an attack against her. She brought her claws to her mandible and regurgitated a fetid purple slime into them, rolling it into a deadly projectile. Eyes red and bulging, she twisted her head around, looking for her next victim.

Yvette stayed behind her, on the left where the torn wing was hindering her mobility. She needed to get close enough to the bee to spray, while avoiding the bomb and the stinger. The mace was extremely flammable, and once she was coated in it, the Vespiqueen would erupt into flames the second Doyle's Fire Blast hit.

There was a sharp crack under her foot and Yvette wanted to smack herself for not paying attention to where she was walking. The Vespiqueen spun around angrily and flung the Sludge Bomb at Yvette before she could bring up her mace. Yvette ducked the instant before the bomb would have hit her, the resulting splatter hitting the back of her sneaker. The Vespiqueen was now charging at her stinger first, still wet with the blood of the dead monkeys. Yvette sprayed, and then dodged to the left, slipping on sludge and falling. She landed on her right hand and barely felt the slice of glass on her palm as she got back to her feet, the adrenaline pumping through her veins keeping her blessedly numb to pain. Her mace had only wet the stinger, and it wasn't enough to guarantee the one-hit knock out that they needed.

The Vespiqueen was hocking another toxic loogie into her claws. Or trying to-she wasn't coughing up as much sludge as she had previously. _Her venom sacs must be dried up_. This was Yvette's chance. She dashed up to the hocking Vespiqueen and sprayed the mace again, this time hitting her in the face. The Vespiqueen shrieked in pain as it clawed at its stinging eyes, infecting itself with its own poison in the process. Yvette turned and fled, putting as much distance between herself and the screaming bee as possible. "Now, Doyle!" she yelled as the hound emerged from the trees.

An enormous column of fire spat from his mouth as he roared. The fire moved across the glade and onto the Vespiqueen in an instant, and the bee practically exploded, the tower of flame shooting as high as the trees that surrounded them. Yvette could feel the flames licking at her back as she ran, and the acrid stench of burning flesh hit her nostrils. The flames burned for a good 2 minutes, than died away, leaving only a smoking, charred husk on the forest floor.

It took a minute or two for Yvette's heart rate to slow down and for her to finally feel the sharp, stinging pain in the palm of her right hand. There was a small sliver of glass protruding from the bleeding wound-not good, but it could have been a whole lot worse. She didn't feel lightheaded, and her breathing was fine, if a little heavy due to exertion.

She went back over to the tree she and Doyle had hidden behind, the Houndoom greeting her with concern. She grabbed her backpack with her good hand and unzipped the pocket holding her first aid kit. She gave Doyle a quick once over and asked him "How you doing, boy?" He whined, sniffing at her cut hand, but otherwise seemed okay. "Don't you worry about me," she said as she slid to the ground, back against the tree trunk. She began cleaning the wound with rubbing alcohol. That done, she picked up the tweezers. "I'll be fine," she reassured him as she pinched the glass between the tweezers. "It's only a-fuck!" She grunted in pain as she pulled the glass free from her flesh. "It's only a cut. Small glass cut." The wound was cleaned a second time before she bandaged her palm up as best she could.

She remained there for a moment, legs crossed and back turned away from the clearing. Doyle lay next to her, putting his large head on her lap. She scratched him between his horns absently. It wasn't a pleasant location to rest in- it stank of smoke, death, and poison, but she didn't think her legs were ready to work just yet. The adrenaline was long gone, and her palm stung. "We still have to find Pierre," she said with a sigh. She looked down at Doyle, who looked back up at her. "It shouldn't take too long." It was near sunset, and soon the forest would be dark. "He couldn't have gotten far. Not from that thing."

She turned back toward the glade. It was like something from a nightmare- all those bodies and a stinking black husk in the middle of it. A husk that used to be something, that used to matter to somebody. Whoever had previously owned her, whether they abandoned her to her sickness or if they were one of her victims, had put a lot of work into training her, if the sheer power of her attacks was anything to go by. Had they hoped to challenge the Elite Four together? All that work, only for her to wind up wandering madly around Santalune Forest sick and alone, until some random freelancer had her burned to death. Her trainer probably never thought such a terrible fate would have befallen her.

The thoughts were making her depressed, so she nudged Doyle aside and stood up. "C'mon, let's get this done." Doyle responded with a soft woof, and they headed off to the bicycle to catch the owner's scent.


	5. Epilogue

I own nothing

Epilogue

Clients always wanted to know more than they should.

Deek stood by the sink in his kitchen, back turned to Yvette, who was sitting at the cheap table that took up most of the room. He'd gotten up to ostensibly pour himself another glass of water, but he hadn't actually turned the sink on. It was more likely that he needed an excuse to move, to do something other than listen to the bizarre, tragic tale Yvette was telling him. His shoulders shook, and his hands were fisted on counter.

It wasn't as though Yvette had wanted to tell him whole story. Initially, she was only going to tell him that Pierre had been killed by a pokemon and leave it at that. Sad, but that kind of thing happened all the time. But when she had come to his house to collect her payment, he'd grabbed her by the shoulders and hysterically begged her to tell him the truth behind Pierre's death. And then, due to either his desperate pleas or her own need to sort out what she had seen, she sat down with him at his kitchen table and told him everything. About the silent, lifeless section of the forest she and Doyle had walked through. About the twelve dead monkeys and their leader, collapsed on the forest floor. About their rotten teeth, and the bald, harvested Pansages. About the mad Vespiqueen, lost in her own sickness, and the cruel way she had gone down. And about Pierre, slumped against a tree not ten minutes away from the clearing. He'd been hit directly with a sludge bomb, and while he had been able to escape from the Vespiqueen, he couldn't escape the poison.

She'd called the police to report the body shortly after finding it, giving them the coordinates to the body's location deep in the forest. Then she had called Deek, to inform him of his best friend's demise. His response had been a weak and resigned acknowledgement of what she told him, sounding as though he had already known about the bad news that was coming before she had called. He hadn't, at that time, asked for further elaboration about the nature of Pierre's last few moments of life, possibly too exhausted from the events of the day to hear anymore. He'd asked her to stop by his house in West Santalune in order to get her money for the day's work, and although she normally wouldn't visit a new client at their home, she doubted that Deek would have the energy to pull anything shifty.

After making those calls, she'd forced herself to go back to the clearing so Jezebel could have room to fly them out of the forest. Jezebel had looked far too interested in the bodies for Yvette's liking, and had almost attempted to pick at one of the monkey's femurs before Yvette stopped her with a sharp no and a "c'mon Jez, that's gross." Jezebel had been grumpy the whole flight back to the city, but Yvette had been too tired and sore to care about the scavenger's grouchiness.

She hadn't gone immediately to Deek's house upon returning to Santalune. First she'd gone to the Pokemon Center, for a quick shower and change of clothes, keeping her head down and blending into the crowd to avoid notice. A difficult task- she was covered in dirt, sweat, and other nasty substances, and she figured she probably stank as well. Still, the center's employees and patrons had been too busy to notice her filthy self when she snuck into the showers, and she managed to make herself presentable fast enough so that nobody questioned her as she left for Deek's house. The police had asked her to come by the station to make a report, but there was no way in hell that she was talking to any officers. Although she'd done nothing illegal, police officers and freelancers had an innate distrust for one another, and the less she had to deal with them the better. Better to get her money from Deek and then leave the city as soon as possible.

That had not gone as planned. She'd arrived at Deek's house at around 9:45, and he'd apparently changed his mind about not wanting to know the whole story. And so she'd told him, and now he was standing by the sink in a state of shocked disbelief. Yvette looked at her phone, and wondered if now would be a good time to bring up the fact that he hadn't paid her for the eight hours she'd put into this job. Insensitive, perhaps, but this was still a business transaction at heart, and although she sympathized with Deek, they weren't friends. He was keeping it together reasonably well considering the circumstances, but the grief would eventually hit, and the resulting breakdown was inevitable. She'd seen this process often enough in her time as a freelancer to know that she needed to be gone before this happened with Deek. Extreme displays of emotion made Yvette deeply uncomfortable, and she was awful at helping others through their grieving. Better for her to get her money and flee, and for him to be with someone whose idea of comforting another human being wasn't staring awkwardly at them while they cried.

A stretch of silence passed between them for a minute. Yvette's bandaged palm throbbed dully as she considered her next words. Then Deek spoke, breaking the silence, his voice shaky. "I guess I should give you the money now. Sorry to make you wait, I just…I'll go get my card." Relived at not having to ask for her money like an asshole, Yvette nodded and attached a small, half-circle shaped credit card reader to her phone. She accessed the billing app and brought up the bill, entering in the fee. Deek came back with his wallet and handed her his debit card, seating himself in the chair across from her.

"I'm charging you sixty-four thousand yen for eight hours work, including expenses, as per our agreement of 8,000 yen per working hour. Is that okay with you?" Deek nodded slowly, and reached into his wallet as she slid his card through the reader. He pulled out a couple of folded bills and passed them to her. Yvette raised an eyebrow. "I don't normally get tipped," she said as she took the cash and counted four five-thousand dollar notes, the bills crisp and new.

"Yeah, well," Deek replied, rubbing the back of his head. "Least I could do, after you killed the thing that got Pierre. And helped me get Blaze." He sighed and looked away, wiping his eyes.

Yvette decided it wasn't necessary to tell Deek that she hadn't killed the Vespiqueen out of any desire to avenge his friend. Instead she asked "How's he doing?"

Deek frowned and laced his fingers together. "He's…I don't know. Right now he's sleeping. I took him straight to the Pokemon Center to get him checked out and they said that there wasn't anything they could really do other than clean that gunk off of him and make sure he wasn't poisoned. They said I'd have to take him to a behaviorist if I wanted to see any improvement. And that I probably should take him to a dentist." He looked down at his hands. "Those trainers really helped me out. I don't have any pokemon, so I couldn't trade, but the girl that caught him just gave him to me without asking for anything. He's registered under my name now. I did give them some money before they left." He shook his head, suddenly angry at himself. "That's all I can do. I can't do anything but throw money at a problem until it goes away." He put his head in his hands "All this money and I couldn't even save my best friend."

 _Oh boy, here it is. The breakdown. I need to go. Now._ But she stayed put, and said "There was nothing you could've done. Pierre was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You don't understand!" he shouted, his head snapping up to look at her. Tears filled his eyes. "I never told him I was rich. If I'd just…he wouldn't have had to go in that forest at all if I had just been honest. We could have just bought the stuff from the guys that sell it here in the city!" His breathing had become ragged and fast.

Yvette looked around the kitchen. It, like the rest of the house, was small, with old furniture and appliances. The tile floor was cracked, and the walls had become yellow with age. Not the usual abode for a young man of noble birth. Curiosity got the better of her. "Why did you keep it a secret? Is it an 'I want the people to like me for me' kind of thing?"

Deek sniffed, momentarily calmed by the question. "I don't know, maybe. My family up north is just so…I was never good enough. The things I wanted were never good enough. They wanted me to do the whole Kalos gym circuit like everyone else. They gave me this huge trust fund for traveling, but I wound up staying here, with my friends. My parents think I work for Viola. They're not happy about it, but they think if I work for her long enough I'll eventually come to my senses and set out on my own. I've been here for four years and they have no idea that I work at a convenience store and don't actually have any pokemon."

Yvette nodded in understanding. She could relate to his plight, somewhat. He continued, "Here with Pierre, it didn't matter that I was a failure in my parent's eyes. He never expected anything from me other than my share of the rent. I didn't have to be some ace trainer or child prodigy. I didn't have to be someone I wasn't for him to accept me as a friend." He sighed, completely drained. "But he's gone now. Gone and for what? Because he had to ride out to that forest and get free Sage?"

"Yeah, about that," Yvette asked, leaning back in her chair. "What was up with that? How did he even meet that Simisage? I know you didn't know who his dealer was, but did he ever tell you how they met?" She knew she ought to leave Deek before he really began crying, but the question had been on her mind for some time, and Deek was the only person who could possibly have any type of answer for it.

"Yeah, they met three years ago, I think. Our old dealer, the one before the…you know, raised his prices, and we were looking for a new guy to buy Sage from. But the only other dealer who wasn't charging a fuck ton of money for a gram cut his stuff with embalming fluid and that shit messes you up. Uh, anyway, Pierre got tired of all the bullshit and decided that he'd go into the forest and catch his own Pansage." Deek scratched his chin, doing his best to recall that day. "Like, I didn't think he could actually do it. Those monkeys are hard to find, even on the path. And Pierre didn't even have any pokemon. I was gonna tell him about my money when he gave up, but then he came back a day later, all excited. He told me that he met somebody that could hook us up with free Sage, and all we'd have to do was bring him two cases of Slurpo Brand Cola. The next day he delivered the soda and brought back a huge bag of Sage, real good stuff too. And then he kept doing it, every month, for the next three years. And Blaze started following him out of the forest to hang out with us." He shrugged morosely.

"I guess that explains some of, it but not everything." Yvette said, considering the information. She still didn't know how Pierre had stumbled upon the Simisage and his gang, or how the Simisage figured out how to run its own Sage operation for so long. The answers had died alongside Pierre, to remain unsolved mysteries. Oh well. It wasn't terribly important in the long run, just one bizarre situation in a world full of strange occurrences. Her curiosity somewhat sated, she rose from her chair. "Sorry for your loss. I hope Blaze turns out okay." She grabbed her back pack off the floor and headed towards the exit. "I suggest you file a missing persons report before the police get suspicious. And don't tell them I was here."

"Wait!" Deek shot up from his chair suddenly.

Yvette stopped and turned back to him, feeling uneasy. "I really should go, it's late and I've got to get back to Lumiose."

"I-I know, but I just want to ask…" Deek stammered, walking over to her. "Do you…do you think we're bad people? Was it wrong to take that Sage? And to keep giving those monkeys that soda?"

Yvette hesitated, before answering. "I don't think you're bad people. You didn't know, and Pierre probably didn't really think that hard about it." An image of one of the dead Pansages flashed through her mind, teeth rotten, and head nearly leafless. Then she saw their leader, the Simisage obese from years of drinking too much soda. "People have done worse things." It was a poor answer, and she knew it did nothing to console Deek. "Goodbye." She exited the kitchen and left the house, leaving Deek alone with his thoughts.

She walked for a bit, giving herself time to think. It was almost 11:00, and only the streetlights illuminated the neighborhood. West Santalune wasn't the best part of Santalune City, the sidewalk was overrun with grass, and trashed littered the sides of the walkway. Groups of late-night loiterers hung out on stoops and in alleys, talking amongst themselves. She saw a Slurpo Brand Cola bottle and kicked it as hard as she could, the glass shattering against a building in a satisfying manner. Up ahead, she could see a liquor store, the lights of its sign buzzing and flickering. She considering going in there and buying out their entire stock of rum, but thought the better of it. The buzzing was getting on her nerves, so she released Jezebel. "We're done here," She said as she climbed onto the buzzard's back. "Let's go home."


End file.
